


Don't be Dead

by cwags_7



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 03:45:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1590506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cwags_7/pseuds/cwags_7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Molly at the grave instead of John, and there's a lot more that Sherlock left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't be Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Creds to the Moffster, as always. R&R but most of all, enjoy. :)

Molly Hooper (she supposed she was Holmes now, but everyone kept calling her Hooper) wanted to cry every time she looked at her son. Even after all this time, she could barely keep it together. He had her features - her turned-up nose and small button mouth. But the dark, unruly curls he constantly blew out of his face could only have come from him. And she could tell that when he grew out of his chubby years, he would be just as tall, slight, and somehow terrifyingly imposing as his father. 

But it was his eyes that hurt the most. Icy blue, though sometimes green or even grey, intense, penetrating, deducing - 

She stopped that train of thought in its tracks. She would not think about him. Stop it, she told herself angrily. It's done. Over. He wouldn't want you to be sad. 

But the truth, her mind whispered back. You are sad. You miss him terribly. 

The little boy startled her from her reverie. "Mummy, look!" he cried excitedly. He offered her a piece of green goop that she took gingerly, and was surprised when it held its form in her hand. "If I mix glitter glue with laundry detergent, the glue doesn't go all runny!" 

Molly laughed. "That's brilliant, Sam," she said, and smiled. John had given Sam some sort of science kit for his fifth birthday, and the boy had been immediately fascinated. His father would be so proud. 

She left the boy in the living room and went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. As she passed the fridge, she forced herself to look at the calendar and acknowledge that today was the day. The... anniversary. She had been dreading it all week, but she knew she had to do it. Just as she had been faithfully doing every month for the last five. 

"Sammy?" she called. "We're going to go visit daddy." 

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 

Molly stood before the stone, Sam's small hand held tightly in her own. "Do you want to say anything to Daddy?" she asked gently, ruffling his curls. 

"I miss you, Daddy. I need you to help me with my science experiments." He turned to Molly. "When is Daddy coming back, Mummy?"

"Not for a very long time," she answered, and felt her heart break yet again at the sadness in his eyes. Those blue-green-grey eyes. 

She spotted Andrew, the elderly caretaker of the cemetery, a few yards away. "Why don't you go talk to Andrew, honey? Mummy just needs to say some things to Daddy."

The little boy nodded. "Okay," he said, and skipped over to Andrew, who welcomed him with a hug. She could hear his high-pitched voice intently explaining his latest experiments. 

"Sherlock..." Molly began. A single tear trickled down her cheek, but she firmly wiped it away. She would not do this, not again. "I... One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be - " she broke off, voice cracking. "Don't be dead."

She jumped at a deep baritone voice behind her. "All right," the voice said. "I'm not."

She turned slowly, hoping against hope that she was not dreaming, that this was not some sort of sick fantasy, her mind playing tricks on her - 

He was there, real, tangible, his eyes penetrating into the depths of her soul. The hint of a smile played across his lips.

Molly's mouth dropped open. "Sherlock?"

He smiled. "Hello, Molly."

And then tiny, timid pathologist Molly Hooper gave Sherlock Holmes a resounding slap in the face. 

Sherlock felt emotions cross his face, something that rarely happened - shock, then pain, then resignation as he realized that Molly probably deserved to slap him after all she'd been through. 

But before he could open his mouth to say it, she was holding him, so tightly he could barely breathe, and sobbing desperately into his coat as if she would never let go.


End file.
